


One More Chance

by dreamcatcher (darcangell23)



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Explicit Sexual Content, Future Fic, M/M, Popstar!Blaine, fashion designer!Kurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 02:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darcangell23/pseuds/dreamcatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an argument in his senior year, Kurt's friendship with Blaine ends after two years. Ten years later, neither have spoken to each other and both have made names for themselves. Can moving to London to start his European line fix a relationship that never should have needed fixing? Or will Blaine currently living in London ruin everything they built up in the face of never being a part of each other's lives again? AU! Kurt and Blaine were only ever best friends in this verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Closer Than You Think

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I am aware that I have been off the scene for a while and I apologize for that! Hopefully I'll get you updates soon between juggling my RPs and writing fan fic but I really wanted something new so I worked at it until I came up with this. I do have some other stuff I started that I never posted so you can poke me about that if you want. But I kind of like the idea of Kurt and Blaine finding one another again years in the future so that's what this is. Keep in mind I've never been to London or even England so I might be factually inaccurate. So forgive me for that. Eating and other characters for later chapters. I'm going to explain something briefly at the end. Remember comments make me smile! Enjoy!

"Fine! You can have back the broach you got me last Christmas!" Kurt yelled.  
  
"Oh, okay, if that's the way you want to play it," Blaine yelled back, tearing the bow tie from his neck and chucking it unceremoniously at him. "You can take back this stupid bow tie! And all the other ones too! I'll send them in the mail."  
  
Kurt scoffed. "Really? You're going to take something I worked so hard on and return it in such a crude manner?"  
  
The smirk that wrote itself across Blaine's face was anything but playful. "You have zero fashion sense anyway," he said coldly. "You suck as a designer."  
  
Kurt's eyes darkened, hiding the hurt that came with the stab of a metaphorical knife to his gut. "Okay, if that's the way you want to play it," he said, roughly grabbing several sheets of paper from the desk. "Than you're a crappy writer Blaine. You couldn't write a song to save your life!" To emphasize his point, he tore the sheets of paper into pieces and threw them all over the floor, throwing his hands up carelessly.  
  
Blaine just stared at him, mouth agape, as though he couldn't believe Kurt would have the balls to do something like that.  
  
It only lasted a moment though as the expression was wiped clean by the coldest, emotionless look Blaine had ever worn in his life.  
  
"Oh we're through. As friends, as acquaintances, as anything," he said darkly.  
  
"Good," Kurt replied, folding his arms across his chest and sticking his nose in the air. "I don't care." He turned his snooty expression on him. "Now get out!" he shouted.  
  
"Gladly," Blaine scoffed. Kurt watched him turn and walk out of the room, slamming the door behind him.  
  
And it was that moment that ended nearly two years of best friendship. But it was only two years right? He would get over it, right?  
  
* * *  
  
Wrong.  
  
Kurt stared at the photograph on the mantel. The last one he and Blaine had ever taken together. The last one that ever showed them happy. It was the only picture of the two of them he had left. The rest were boxed up in the attic at his dad's house back in Ohio and still, he didn't know why he kept it.  
  
After the fight, Blaine had transferred back to Dalton immediately. He changed his phone number and told his mother to tell Kurt be wasn't welcome to call of come by if he ever tried. But Kurt had never tried. He barely noticed Blaine's sudden absence in his life. Or he seemed to anyway. He tried to brush it off like he didn't care. He changed his phone number too, just so Blaine wouldn't be the first to crack and he blocked him on Tumblr and Twitter, removed him as a friend on Facebook, and changed his email. Blaine had probably done the same.  
  
But the truth was, Kurt did care. A part of him sat there hoping that Blaine would come back to him and want to make up. But he never did. Years passed and they never once tried to find each other again.  
  
Sighing heavily, Kurt swept the photograph from the mantel, wrapped it in newspaper and packed it into the box with his other mantel pieces. He closed the box, labeled it living room, and set it by the door to be picked up and shipped out the next day.  
  
Hands on his hips, Kurt survived the empty apartment. It was the last night he would spend in his New York apartment. It was the last night he would spend living in the United States.  
  
Fashion icon Kurt Hummel at the age of twenty-eight, was moving overseas to London and opening a brand new European boutique. His first London fashion runway was just weeks away and he let thoughts of it claim his mind rather than continued thoughts of a fight that ended a friendship ten years earlier.  
  
He had done exceedingly well for himself. Kurt was desperate to see what was on TV, but he already had his television packed up and ready to go. So instead, he traipsed into the kitchen to finally dig into the Chinese takeout he'd had delivered earlier.  
  
* * *  
  
"That was the best I've ever had babe!"  
  
"Don't call me that," Blaine spat, lighting up a cigarette. It wasn't a habit. He usually only lit one after a particularly bad hookup.  
  
It was two in the morning at Blaine's high rise flat in London. He was dressed only in his boxers as he stepped out onto the balcony to have that smoke. He was recording in London right then, so that was where he lived currently. Blaine lived wherever the music took him. A pop icon, he had homes all over the world now.  
  
"You really shouldn't smoke babe. It will ruin your voice," replied the random guy Blaine had picked up that night.  
  
Blaine didn't make commitment. He didn't do commitment. Truthfully, there was only one person he had ever wanted and due to a stupid fight ten years earlier, that person was no longer in his life.  
  
He had kind of gone downhill after the fight with Kurt. He'd transferred back to Dalton and cut off all ties with him. He'd sunk into a sort of manic depression, delving into self-harm and not really opening his eyes until he landed in the hospital, fighting for his life after a massive blood loss.  
  
He stared down at the scars on his wrists. He'd thrown himself into his music after that, getting noticed by a major record producer at gig in a coffee shop when he was a student at UCLA and rest was history.  
  
"I said don't call me that," he repeated, blowing the smoke out and flicking off the cherry, not particularly interested in finishing the cigarette anymore.  
  
He walked back inside and picked up the guy's clothes, throwing them carelessly at him.  
  
"Get out," he said shortly.  
  
The guy stared at him with wide eyes. "But I thought we had something Blaine!" he whined. Blaine chuckled darkly.  
  
"Are you really that delusional?" he asked. "I said, get. Out." Not wanting to really anger Blaine, the guy hustled to pull on his clothes and hurry out the door.  
  
Blaine sighed heavily. He'd stopped being the dapper gentleman years ago. He was rarely friendly to new people anymore but not because of his job. He developed this attitude before he'd gotten discovered.  
  
Clicking on the TV — Blaine refused to call it the Telly — he glanced down at a magazine left on the coffee table. It was a fashion magazine, an old one but he kept it because Kurt was on the cover. It was the only picture he had of him.  
  
He stared at the magazine, feeling his eyes well up. Why hadn't he tried? Why hadn't he tried to fix things? If he had, Kurt would be in his life right now. There was nothing Blaine regretted more than walking out that door ten years ago. He couldn't even remember what the fight was about.  
  
"So Kurt," said a reporter on the TV and Blaine's head jerked up. "All the fashion blogs say you're packing your bags and heading to Europe for the next couple of years at least. Is it true?" Blaine was intrigued.  
  
And then, there he was, more gorgeous than he had ever been before and Blaine felt himself fall in love with him all over again and the tears welled up in his eyes. Kurt…  
  
"Yes, it's true. I'm opening a boutique in London," Kurt replied, smiling at the camera. "And in a few weeks, I'll have my first European fashion show."  
  
"That sounds exciting," the reporter replied.  
  
"Oh it is. I'm very excited," Kurt said.  
  
"Well, we wish you luck overseas. Any hints about your new European line you can tell us?" she asked him.  
  
Kurt's face contorted somewhat uncomfortably as though he were fighting some sort of emotion he didn't want to show and Blaine stared hard at him, trying to read him.  
  
"Let's just say it reminds me of someone who was once very special to me," he finally said. Blaine tapped the pause button on the DVR and stared at the screen.  
  
Could he have been talking about him?  
  
* * *  
  
Kurt was hard at work marking stuff on his PDA during his flight the next day. He barely had time to pay much attention to the rest of the goings on in the cabin. Except for some teenage girl who had the volume on her headphones cranked all the way up and Kurt could hear the blast of the music loud enough as though he were wearing the headphones himself.  
  
Signing in frustration, he leaned across the aisle and tapped the girl on the shoulder. She merely looked at him.  
  
"Do you mind?" he asked. "I'm trying to get some work done here and I can't think with your music blaring so loud." Some of the other passengers around them nodded in agreement, with one man shouting that he was trying to nap and couldn't with all that racket.  
  
The girl however, scoffed at him. "Pfft, you can't turn down Blaine Anderson," she spat.  
  
Kurt stared at her, mouth agape. "What did you say?" he asked. But he wasn't shocked by her reply. He was shocked by the name she'd given.  
  
The teenager pulled the headphones off her head and Kurt could hear the music even clearer. Even after ten years of not saying a single word to each other, he still could tell Blaine's voice anywhere.  
  
"I said, you can't turn down Blaine Anderson," she repeated pointedly, before putting her headphones back on and cranking it up even more.  
  
Kurt leaned back in his seat, saving his work on his PDA and turning it off.  
  
Blaine.  
  
He thought briefly of the photograph he had packed up last night. But mostly, he thought of how horrible he'd been to Blaine in that fight. Telling him he couldn't write to save his life and tearing up all the songs Blaine had written for him, even though they were just best friends. He hadn't meant any of it. If anything, Kurt had no doubt in his mind that Blaine was going to make it in the music business. He'd just been so blinded by anger that day.  
  
And he hoped deep down that Blaine hadn't meant what he said about Kurt's fashion ability. Both of them had proved the other wrong, whether they meant the words they had said or not.  
  
But if Blaine was some big music star nowadays, why hadn't Kurt heard of him? He knew why, because he purposely shut himself out of things that reminded him of Blaine. It just hurt too much. As a result, Kurt kept his music library to nothing newer than his senior year of high school.  
  
With the thought of Blaine in his mind, Kurt knew he wasn't going to get anymore work done. He decided just to turn on his phone, put it on airplane mode, and start playing Angry Birds or something. He still had a long flight ahead of him and he really didn't feel like pulling out his credit card to purchase a movie.  
  
But the moment he turned on his phone, a text from an unknown number came through.  
  
 **From:619-555-4237  
London, huh? Any particular reason you're moving there?**  
  
Kurt stared at the number. He knew the area code was a California code but he couldn't place where exactly. He didn't know whether he should just ignore it or what. Finally, he made the decision to be straight up.  
  
 **To:619-555-4237  
Who is this?  
  
From: 619-555-4237  
Nobody important.  
  
To: 619-555-4237  
That's not reassuring.  
  
From: 619-555-4237  
Don't worry your pretty little head about it Kurt.**  
  
Kurt stared at the reply for several seconds. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest. This was no longer fun and games. This unknown number knew exactly who they were texting. He swallowed hard.  
  
 **To:619-555-4237  
How do you know my name?  
  
From: 619-555-4237  
I know a lot about you.**  
  
Kurt drew a shaky breath. Okay, this he had to stop.  
  
 **To:619-555-4237  
This isn't funny jackass. I'm blocking your number.**  
  
He wasted no time in doing just that and rested his head back against the seat, shutting his eyes. Maybe playing with his phone wasn't the best thing to be doing right now. He decided not to let any of his people know he had a potential stalker and was immediately grateful that he would be getting a new phone and London number while he was living in England.  
  
* * *  
  
 **From: Kurt  
This isn't funny jackass. I'm blocking your number.**  
  
Blaine stared down at the text on the screen with a sigh. God he was stupid. He never should have texted him in the first place, let alone mention he knew his name. Now Kurt thought he was some creepy stalker and in a way, he kind of was.  
  
Blaine had people that could get a hold of anyone's phone number he wanted and he knew Kurt would not recognize the San Diego based phone number. Granted, he wouldn't recognize the London based number either but that would have freaked Kurt out even more because then he'd be waiting to be attacked by some stalker when he got there.  
  
The curly-haired man set his phone down and pulled his hood down over his head more, sunglasses slapped over his face. He was sitting at the airport, waiting for Kurt's flight to get in, if only so he could get a glimpse of him in person.  
  
"Good God, I really am a stalker," he muttered to himself. What the hell was he doing? Sending Kurt a text message? Ditching on studio time to spend the day waiting just to see him in the airport? Fuck.  
  
What they had was over ten years ago. Kurt had likely long forgotten him by now and moved on, maybe he even had a boyfriend, or a husband. Kids even. Did Kurt have kids?  
  
Blaine suddenly realized that as much as he followed Kurt's life, he knew very little about his personal life. Kurt had stated in an interview with Vogue once that he intended to keep his personal life exactly that, personal.  
  
Sighing heavily, he grabbed his London phone and shot off a text to his manager.  
  
 **To: Riley Bellamy  
Do me a favor and see if you can dig up information on Kurt's personal life, would you?**  
  
The reply came almost immediately.  
  
 **From: Riley Bellamy**  
Isn't that too much invasion of privacy Blaine?  
  
To: Riley Bellamy  
Just do it please.  
  
From: Riley Bellamy  
Fine. But you owe me.  
  
To: Riley Bellamy  
Done.  
  
Blaine set the phone down and stared at the table. Was he wrong to want to know whether Kurt was single or not?  
  
He didn't have time to figure it out because the arrival of Kurt's flight was announced and moments later, people began to stream from the gate. This was it. In a moment, he would see a man he hadn't seen in ten years.  
  
"Kurt…"


	2. One Text Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could any resist. I just had to write this now. I know, I know, I'm toying with you guys about Kurt and Blaine emitting around each other. But I can't have things happen at lightning speed though, right? Maybe…because than we can get to the sexy times, right? We'll see what happens as we progress yeah? Remember, comments make me smile! Enjoy!

Kurt walked out of the gate, eyes on his phone, he was texting away quickly, sending messages left and right. Some to his PR Manager, some to his assistant — the new one they'd hired for him in London — some to Finn and some to Rachel. The last two were leisure texts. He thought about shooting off a few to Mercedes too but he wasn't sure if she was available at the moment. And he still had to adjust to the time change.  
  
The twenty-eight year old had never been to London before. He'd gone to Paris for a project once when he worked for Vogue before he'd started his own line but he hadn't had the chance to go to London yet. So the fact that he would be living here for the next couple of years was quite exciting.  
  
Of course, he hadn't expected the press to show up at his gate. The moment he walked off the plane, his texts were interrupted by the flash of a camera or two and a microphone being shoved in his face. Reporters were talking a mile a minute.  
  
And then he heard it.  
  
"Kurt…"  
  
It was strange. The soft breathless whisper seemed to reach his ears even through the noise being caused by the press.  
  
The pale man turned his head to the side and saw a figure standing some feet away. A figure that was wearing a hood and dark sunglasses and it took all of Kurt's strength to suppress the shudder that went up his spine. Oh God, he did have a stalker.  
  
Under the figure's hood, he could just barely make out the raising of a pair of eyebrows as though the person was completely stunned that Kurt was looking directly at him. Wait a second did he know those eyebrows?  
  
Kurt stopped and stared, ignoring the reporters. Suddenly the figure grabbed two phones off a nearby table, turned on their heel, and sped off. The fashion designer had the strange urge to follow them and he had just put one foot forward to do just that when a voice caught him.  
  
"Mr. Hummel?" Kurt turned his head to see a young redheaded woman smiling at him. She stuck out a hand. "I'm Elise Brightwood, your new assistant," she continued in a British accent.  
  
"H-hi," Kurt replied rather distractedly, taking her hand to shake. He turned his head back for a sign of the figure but they were gone. Who was that person?  
  
"Mr. Hummel?" Elise questioned, concern lacing her voice. "Are you all right?" Kurt whipped his head back to look at her.  
  
"Fine," he stated firmly. "I'm fine. And you can call me Kurt. My new assistant, right?" She nodded her head. "Good. Than your first assignment, trace this phone number and find out who it belongs to." He showed her the number on the unknown texts but didn't show her any of the texts. The last thing he needed was to alert London to the fact that he apparently had a stalker.  
  
Looking back at the reporters he added, "And get rid of them." He shouldered his carry-on and headed off to the baggage claim. Right now, he had more important things to worry about rather than tracking down stalkers.  
  
* * *  
  
Blaine slammed the door to limo shut and leaned his head back on the seat, pulling his hood off finally as the driver pulled away from the curb. He'd lost his nerve. He wanted so badly to go up to Kurt and say hi, the simplest of things but he couldn't.  
  
He hadn't even thought about how Kurt would react to seeing him after ten years of no contact. Would he be happy? Would he be sad? Would he still be angry? Did he remember what the fight was about? Did he even still think about Blaine? Would he want him back in his life? Or was he happier without him there?  
  
All these questions and more burned like wildfire in his brain and the man just could not bring himself to approach Kurt. He'd chickened out. He chuckled darkly to himself. So ironic now when he had told Kurt all those years ago to have courage and he couldn't even muster up enough to say hi to someone he hadn't spoken to in ten years. What a hypocrite he was.  
  
"Where to sir?" asked the driver and Blaine rolled his eyes.  
  
"I told you Max, call me Blaine and home please," he replied, turning his eyes on the window. He was unaware of the second limo that seemed to be following them, or maybe it was just going in the same direction by coincidence.  
  
* * *  
  
"Blaine Anderson."  
  
Kurt whipped his head around to stare at his assistant, now that they were both seated in the limo and headed for his new home.  
  
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" he asked with wide eyes.  
  
"The number you told me to look up," she replied. "It belongs to a Blaine Anderson."  
  
Kurt was at a loss for words. She apparently didn't know who Blaine Anderson was as she didn't say anything about him being a pop star. Or maybe she was just trying to be professional. Either way, Kurt didn't know what to say to that. It couldn't possibly be true.  
  
Taking out his phone, he decided to test that theory.  
  
To: Blaine  
I know who you are.  
  
He expected it to be several minutes before he got a reply. After all, he had originally said that he was blocking the number. But a response came not thirty seconds later.  
  
From: Blaine  
Do you now?  
  
He was playing coy, something that caught Kurt off-guard because that wasn't like Blaine, not the man he remembered. Still, he pressed on.  
  
To: Blaine  
I had my assistant look your number up.  
  
From: Blaine  
And?  
  
To: Blaine  
What the hell Blaine?  
  
There seemed to be a long silence after that. Apparently, the nail had been hit on the head. Otherwise, Kurt was sure Blaine wouldn't take so long.  
  
From: Blaine  
I can explain.  
  
Kurt scoffed at that.  
  
To: Blaine  
Please do because you scared the shit out of me!  
  
From: Blaine  
I'm sorry.  
  
To: Blaine  
Not the point. Explain.  
  
There was another long pause and Kurt was sure he wasn't going to get a reply.  
  
From: Blaine  
Can we do this over the phone at least? Like, talk?  
  
Kurt stared at his phone for a long time, eyes wide. What the hell did he say to that? Was he ready to actually talk to Blaine on the phone? No. No, he wasn't ready for that yet. It would bring back too many pent up emotions. Not the angry ones, but the feelings of love he worked hard over the past ten years to squash down.  
  
To: Blaine  
No. I'm not ready for that.  
  
From: Blaine  
Oh. Okay.  
  
Kurt had a feeling that was the last he was going to get out of Blaine right then. He sighed and locked his phone, slipping it into his pocket and shutting his eyes. Good God he was tired.  
  
"Everything okay?" Elise asked him and Kurt jumped. He'd forgotten she was there.  
  
"Yes, fine. I'm going to nap though. Wake me up when we get there." She nodded to him, though not looking entirely convinced that he was okay.  
  
Kurt shut his eyes and drifted into a doze, the last thing he coherently thought of was Blaine.  
  
* * *  
  
Of course. What was he thinking? Of course Kurt didn't want to talk to him on the phone yet. But he also hadn't expected Kurt to figure out who he was either. He should have known that Kurt would find some way to trace the number. He probably would have been better off blocking it so it would show up as unknown but then Kurt would never have been able to text him back. You can't send a text to an unknown number.  
  
Blaine sighed and shoved his American cell phone into his pocket as the limo pulled up out in front of his building. Perfect timing for his London cell phone rang at that moment.  
  
"Hey Riley," he answered as he got out of the car.  
  
"Blaine, I have some information for you," came the voice of his manager.  
  
"I'm listening," Blaine replied, digging his keys out of his pocket. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the moving van parked at the curb. He didn't think anything of it.  
  
"There's really not much of interest in Kurt's personal life," his manager replied. "But he's single. Apparently he's never had a serious relationship before. Couldn't bring himself to fully commit to another."  
  
Blaine was quiet for several moments as he began to climb the stairs. He'd never told Riley about his past or why he was so interested in the well being of one Kurt Hummel. In fact, the only people in his life who knew anything about it were people he still talked to that he knew back then when it happened. His friends Nick and Jeff for example.  
  
"Blaine? Blaine are you there?" Riley said, concern lacing his voice.  
  
"Yeah, yeah I'm here," Blaine replied. He came to stop on his floor, noting the door to the flat next to his was wide open. So whomever was moving in, was moving into the flat next door. They must make good money because the flats here didn't come cheap.  
  
"Are you okay?" Riley asked.  
  
"Sure, fine," Blaine replied though he knew Riley wasn't convinced. He'd known Blaine for a number of years now and the two were more like friends rather than manager and client. "Someone bought the flat next door," he went on, shoving his key into the lock of the door to his flat.  
  
"Oh?" Riley questioned. He didn't give Blaine a chance to reply though. "You know, it's really strange to hear you call it that."  
  
Blaine opened the door and snorted. "Yeah, just like the Brits find it strange when we call it an apartment, penthouse, or condo," he said. "Look, I'm going to get some rest or something. It's been a long day."  
  
It was Riley's turn to snort. "Right, because sitting at the airport is always exhausting."  
  
Blaine froze. "How did you…"  
  
"I always know Blaine. But go take your nap. I know you were up late," he said. This was why Blaine liked him so much. Riley never made a fuss when he ditched work or argued about him not doing stuff productive. It was why they were more like friends than anything else.  
  
"Thanks Riley. I owe you one," Blaine replied, heading into his bedroom.  
  
"Right, how many is that now you owe me?"  
  
"Shut-up," he muttered in reply, but couldn't keep the smile off his face.  
  
"Go to sleep Blaine," Riley said.  
  
"Yes sir!" Blaine replied, mock saluting.  
  
"Dork," Riley responded before Blaine heard the click as he hung up the phone.  
  
Blaine sighed heavily and set the phone down on the nightstand as he flopped back on the bed. Intending to only sleep for maybe an hour or two, he allowed his eyes to flutter shut and drifted off to sleep.  
  
* * *  
  
A number hours later, Kurt was extremely exhausted. He hated having boxes sitting around unpacked for days. So after directing the movers on how to arrange his furniture when he got to his new place, he'd proceeded with the tedious task of unpacking the boxes and granted he was running on an awkward schedule from the time difference and jet lag, he really just wanted to fall into bed and sleep for days.  
  
There were still a few boxes left to unpack but Kurt figured they could wait until he was well rested. One of them was the one from the mantel of the fireplace, the one with the picture of him and Blaine in it.  
  
Yawning, Kurt heard his stomach growl and was caught in a dilemma of whether to seek dinner or just go to sleep. Dinner won out in the end.  
  
Throwing on a fashionable sweatshirt, Kurt threw up the hood to hide his mess of hair, which had fallen out of its coif in all the unpacking madness. He grabbed his keys and proceeded to go call on the neighbor to see if they could recommend any nearby restaurants to him.  
  
Shutting the door behind him, Kurt walked the few steps down the hall to the next door. What did they call them in London? Oh, right, flats. That could get confusing considering a flat was also a kind of shoe.  
  
He stopped in front of the door and bit his lip. He wasn't really sure calling upon his neighbor this soon was a good idea. The place wasn't cheap so whoever they were could be some snotty rich Brit or something. But he only wanted to find out about food. So taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and knocked on the door, feeling particularly like the ground was suddenly way more interesting. He cast his eyes down.  
  
"Coming!" he heard called from inside and Kurt held his breath. He heard the lock being turned, the door handle being twisted, the door open, and then, "Can I help you?"  
  
Kurt froze. There was no mistaking that voice. The silkiness was still there. The smooth sexy tone was still there. But the nice friendly dapper demeanor was not. In fact, it sounded uncharacteristically annoyed, like the owner didn't want to be interrupted. That wasn't like him. That wasn't like Blaine.  
  
He wanted to suddenly believe he had imagined it because ever since the texting, he couldn't get Blaine out of his head. And Blaine couldn't be here in London. He was in San Diego, wasn't he?  
  
"I'm waiting," the voice said, impatience lacing the words. And there was no doubt in Kurt's mind. That was definitely Blaine's voice but it wasn't Blaine's tone.  
  
"Sorry," Kurt found himself muttering in a really low voice before he turned, bolted back to his flat, slipped inside, and slammed the door shut. Suddenly, he wasn't so hungry anymore.  
  
It took a number of minutes before Kurt mustered up the courage and grabbed his phone, hastily shooting off a text to Blaine before he could lose his nerve.  
  
To: Blaine  
You didn't tell me you lived in London.  
  
It was at least ten minutes before he received a reply.  
  
From: Blaine  
Sorry, just had a disturbing situation. I thought you knew.  
  
Kurt bit his lip. He thought he was a disturbing situation? How could he think that? Oh right, Blaine didn't know it was Kurt at his door.  
  
To: Blaine  
You texted me from a San Diego phone number Blaine, how would I know?  
  
From: Blaine  
International pop star, remember?  
  
To: Blaine  
I don't follow music anymore.  
  
There was another period of silence in which Kurt was sure Blaine was probably expressing his shock to himself. Kurt decided he needed to get him talking again. So he sent another message.  
  
To: Blaine  
Is that why you texted me about going to London?  
  
From: Blaine  
Partially, yeah.  
  
To: Blaine  
Partially? Why only partially?  
  
There was another long period of silence before he got a reply.  
  
From: Blaine  
I don't know.  
  
To: Blaine  
Well, I'm getting my number changed so you won't be needing this one anymore.  
  
From: Blaine  
Because of me?  
  
To: Blaine  
No, because of moving to London. I'm going to be here a few years.  
  
From: Blaine  
Oh.  
  
Kurt wondered if their text conversations were always going to end like that. But he had a feeling they were done for the time being.  
  
Sighing, he tossed the phone on the bed and dropped down after it. Maybe everything would all look a lot clearer when he woke up the next morning.


	3. Appointment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I actually started work on this chapter last night. Don't hate me for ending it where I did. It will pick up right there next chapter. I just felt the end worked there. I always end a chapter where I feel the end. Anyway, so glad you're all enjoying this new story so much. Comments make me smile! Enjoy!

The next day was like deja vu to Blaine. He was woken by a knock on the door. "I'm coming, I'm coming," he called out, wondering if maybe it was the weird neighbor from the day before coming to apologize. He had better apologize. Or she. Blaine couldn't really tell, even though their sweatshirt had been rather fashionable.  
  
But when he opened the door, it wasn't the weird neighbor. It was Riley. Riley didn't even wait to be invited, he pushed himself by Blaine and into the flat, chatting a mile a minute on his cell phone.  
  
"Right, thank you. He'll be in for a fitting at two." Riley hung up the phone and turned to look at a very confused Blaine with a grin on his face. "Good news!" he called loudly.  
  
Blaine groaned and crinkled his forehead, rubbing circles at his temples. "Riley, please. You woke me up with your knocking. Can I at least have coffee before you get all loud and cheery on me?" he asked.  
  
Riley shook his head knowingly. "Tsk, tsk," he said, poking Blaine in the stomach with his cell phone. "You really need to go to bed earlier," he went on before turning and walking into the kitchen, helping himself to Blaine's coffee pot and starting the coffee.  
  
"What's going on?" Blaine asked, traipsing into the kitchen and sliding onto one of the island stools.  
  
Riley grinned at him as he grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl. "I just got you a fitting appointment at two this afternoon," he said in a sing-song voice.  
  
Blaine merely watched him peel the banana and take a bite. "For what?"  
  
His manager rolled his eyes at him, swallowing the bite of banana in his mouth before speaking again. "That benefit concert you're playing in Hyde Park next month."  
  
The curly-haired man widened his eyes. "Next month? So why do I need a fitting today?" he asked, grabbing an apple and watching the coffee pot eagerly.  
  
Riley rolled his eyes again. "Because dork, if you want something from this guy, you need to give him plenty of time to perfect it." He took another bite of his banana and Blaine bit into his apple, giving him a strange look. His manager went on. "And now that he's in London, I didn't want to waste time snagging him to create an outfit for you. You should be happy. He's hard to book, even for well known celebrities."  
  
Blaine just stared at him. "Who is this guy?" he asked, sounding completely uninterested.  
  
The grin on Riley's face only intensified as he took his last bite of the banana and tossed the peel in the trash bin.  
  
"Only the same person you for some reason can't shut up about," he sing-songed, looking pleased with himself.  
  
Realization dawned on Blaine then. His eyes got wide as saucers and he dropped the half eaten apple on the floor.  
  
"Really Blaine?" Riley scolded as he picked the fruit up off the floor.  
  
But Blaine wasn't paying attention. He was now frantically shaking his head, looking positively terrified. Riley gave him a look of immense concern.  
  
"No," Blaine managed to get out. "No, y-you have to c-c-cancel it! Now!" Riley couldn't fathom why his client was stuttering all of a sudden.  
  
"Blaine are you all right?" he asked quietly, ignoring the fact that the coffee was ready to be poured.  
  
Blaine continued to shake his head frantically and he wrapped his arms around himself. "No, I can't see Kurt Hummel. I just can't! You have to cancel, find another London designer, do something, please!" He was pretty much on the verge of a breakdown and Riley didn't have any clue why.  
  
"Breathe, Blaine, breathe," he said as calmly as he could, walking over to place his hands on Blaine's shoulders. Blaine tried to get his breathing under control. "Now, why can't you see Kurt Hummel?" he asked, confusion lacing his voice.  
  
"Because," Blaine managed to reply. "He's my ex-best friend."  
  
Riley stared at him for a good five minutes. "Spill," he finally said.  
  
* * *  
  
"Good morning Elise," Kurt said as he entered his new office that morning, coffee in hand and a small smile on his face. He had bags under his eyes from not sleeping very well but he always persevered.  
  
Elise looked up from her desk but the smile on her face fell when she saw Kurt. "Are you all right Mr. Hummel? You look terrible."  
  
Kurt laughed it off and waved his hand. "I'm fine. Lack of sleep is nothing new to me. And I told you, call me Kurt. None of that Mr. Hummel stuff. Mr. Hummel is my dad."  
  
She gave him a sort of concerned smile and nodded her head shortly. "If you say so," she said.  
  
"I do," Kurt replied simply. He started heading for his office. "Now, what's on my schedule today?"  
  
Elise picked up a clipboard and made to follow him. "Nothing really. You have this day to settle in and get used to your new workspace. Although you do have a client coming in for a fitting at two but that's about it."  
  
Kurt nodded his head and glanced back at her. "Any intel on the client?"  
  
She shook her head. "No. The man was adamant though that he get his client in asap. Apparently, he's some big star and he's been trying to book you for him for ages now."  
  
Kurt paused at the door to his office and gave her a slight questioning look. Elise shrugged. She didn't have much more idea than he did about the whole situation.  
  
"Huh," Kurt said. He opened the door to his office and entered the lavish space, marveling in the decor as he dropped into the cushioned chair behind the desk and set his coffee down.  
  
"Do you like it?" Elise asked softly.  
  
Kurt spun in the chair and stared in awe out of the large bay window behind his desk that gave him a spectacular view of London.  
  
"It's perfect," he whispered. Elise just smiled from behind him.  
  
"If you need anything Kurt, I'm only a button press away," she told him, pointing to the phone on the desk. Kurt nodded to her as he turned back around in the chair.  
  
"Thank you Elise," he said warmly.  
  
"You're welcome. Have a pleasant morning," she replied.  
  
"You too," he told her. Elise smiled as she left his office and Kurt pulled forward a folder that she had deposited on his desk. Probably the last confirming contracts he had to sign in regard to the line and the fashion show coming up in a few weeks.  
  
He breezed through signing the papers in the folder and leaned back in his chair, spinning around to gaze out the window, hands tucked behind his head. He wasn't going to get many days like this in the future so he was going to enjoy it.  
  
But having nothing to do left his thoughts to wander and they wandered the one place he hadn't wanted them to. Blaine. God, he couldn't get him out of his mind.  
  
"Why did I have to text him back?" he whined to himself.  
  
All the ache, the heartache, and the emotions that had built up over the years from missing Blaine was slamming into him like a cannonball. Everything had come rushing back and he found himself wondering. What would have happened if he had confessed his feelings back then?  
  
No, he couldn't have done that. He would have made a fool of himself. Blaine could never love him.  
  
Kurt fought the urge to cry. It didn't help that he knew Blaine was in London, more so that he was his new neighbor. How the hell had that happened?  
  
He closed his eyes and willed the tearing to stop. Trying to get used to life knowing Blaine was right there was not going to be an easy feat.  
  
* * *  
  
"And so we haven't spoken in ten years," Blaine finished.  
  
By this time, Riley was leaning on the island, Blaine's half-eaten apple still in his hand. He was watching him curiously.  
  
Riley didn't say anything for several moments after Blaine finished the story. He just stood there watching him before chucking the apple in the trash bin and shaking his head at him.  
  
"You're an idiot Blaine," he finally said.  
  
"You think I don't know that?!" Blaine spat back.  
  
"Yeah, I do," Riley replied, coming around to stand beside him. Blaine opened his mouth to protest but Riley went on. "If you knew that, you would have fixed this a long time ago," he explained. "You can complain and call me wrong all you want but it's true. And I'm not canceling the appointment." Blaine stared at him wide-eyed. "You're going to go in there and do what you should have done years ago."  
  
Blaine swallowed hard. "What's that?" he asked, having a feeling he knew what was coming.  
  
"You're going to apologize," Riley replied, saying the exact words Blaine had been dreading.  
  
Blaine immediately became defensive. "What?! He started it! He should apologize first!" he spat, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes.  
  
Riley sighed and shook his head. "You don't even remember what the fight was about Blaine. How do you know he started it? And even if he did, you're going to be the bigger man and finish it."  
  
Blaine knew Riley's word was final. The man was his friend sure, but when he had his mind set on something, he put his foot down. This was when Riley started exercising his rights as Blaine's manager because even though they were friends, Blaine was still his client.  
  
Riley started heading for the door but handed Blaine a piece of paper on the way.  
  
"The appointment is at two at this address," he said. "Don't be late." With that, he swept from Blaine's flat, shutting the door firmly behind him.  
  
Blaine grabbed his California cell phone and set to work hammering out a message he sent off to Kurt.  
  
To: Kurt  
I hope you've had your coffee this morning.  
  
* * *  
  
From: Blaine  
I hope you've had your coffee this morning.  
  
Kurt stared down at the text he'd just gotten from Blaine, confusion written all over his face. He stared at the coffee cup in front of him, wondering what on earth Blaine was getting at.  
  
To: Blaine  
What are you talking about?  
  
He shot the text off to Blaine and waited but nothing came back. Fear clenched in his gut and put him on edge. What the hell was Blaine going on about? As if he didn't have his mind preoccupied with thoughts of him already, he had to go and pull a stunt like that.  
  
Kurt was on edge the whole rest of the morning. At lunch he merely picked at his salad, not sure what to think. Two o'clock was fast approaching and Kurt needed to bring his A Game for this new client. He couldn't let them see that he was out of it.  
  
He sat at his desk and rubbed at his temples. He could do this. Kurt was a master at acting like everything was perfectly fine. He did have an acting background after all. And he was used to pretending nothing was bothering him because he had always been stubborn and he didn't want anyone to know when he was being bullied. It wasn't their problem to handle, he had always told himself.  
  
When two o'clock rolled around, Kurt found himself shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath. A knock on the door had him jumping slightly.  
  
He turned his chair around in time to see Elise entering.  
  
"Your two o'clock appointment is here Kurt," she said with a smile. "And I must say, he's even cuter in person." She giggled and left the room.  
  
What the hell was she on about? Kurt didn't have a clue but he gathered up a folder, stuck a pencil behind his ear, and made his way out of his office to the lobby so he could meet with the new client.  
  
But when he was just feet away, he stopped dead in his tracks. Standing there talking animatedly with a still giggling Elise, was a familiar head of dark curly hair.  
  
Slowly but surely, the man turned around and for the first time in ten years, hazel eyes met blue-green. They both just stood there staring for several long moments, Elise looking on curiously. She had no idea what was going on.  
  
"Hello Kurt."  
  
"Blaine…"


	4. First Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little late, so I apologize. I started writing this the other day after I put chapter two or three by the sites means. But I went back to my RP that day. I'd been on absence because I was sick. So I might be a little slow and the RP is also the reason I haven't updated my other fics in a while. I've been engrossed in keeping up. They had a site event that one of my characters was a big part of. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Sorry it might be a little short. Comments make me smile!

It was like time had stopped. Blaine was there. He was right there, standing in front of him, looking just as dreamy as he always had.  
  
Kurt was at a loss for words. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't form anything beyond the other man's name. His mouth felt dry. Was this what Blaine had meant in that text he'd sent him that morning? Was Kurt even ready for this?  
  
It apparently didn't matter because he had to deal with it anyway. He had to be professional. That was all he could fathom right about then. He swallowed hard and straightened his posture, blinking longer than was probably necessary.  
  
"Thank you Elise," he managed to get out. "I'll take it from here."  
  
She gave him a worried look but nodded anyway before smiling at Blaine and returning to her desk. Kurt just stared at Blaine for a moment before he beckoned for him to follow him. Blaine did and Kurt lead him through the halls to his office where he opened the door and gestured for Blaine to enter first. Kurt closed the door behind them.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Kurt asked after several tense moments of silence.  
  
Blaine sighed and picked up a pen on the desk. He started to absentmindedly play with it.  
  
"Apparently, my manager has been trying to book me an appointment with you for ages," he said quietly. Kurt looked at him.  
  
"And he never told you?" Blaine shook his head, dropping the pen back on the desk and cradling his face in his hands.  
  
"God Kurt, I didn't want this to happen this way," he said.  
  
Kurt just looked at him for a good long time, not at all sure what it was Blaine didn't want to happen in the way it was apparently happening. He watched the singer rub his hands into his eyes in frustration. Blaine seemed to be a different person but at the same time, he was still Blaine. Did that make any sense? Kurt wasn't sure it was supposed to.  
  
"Didn't want what to happen this way Blaine?" he asked quietly, afraid of the answer he might get.  
  
Blaine stopped rubbing his hands into his eyes and looked up at him.  
  
"Our face to face confrontation," he replied, voice barely above a whisper. Kurt opened his mouth to say something but Blaine cut him off. "I wanted it to be on our terms, by our own decision."  
  
Kurt got that, he really did but he was still confused. "So why didn't you just cancel the appointment?" He surprised himself by how bitter and harsh the words sounded as though his subconscious thought Blaine still didn't want to see him.  
  
Blaine cringed slightly and rubbed a hand nervously at the back of his head. "My manager wouldn't do it." He replied. "He said that I was going to do what I should have done years ago."  
  
"What's that?" Kurt asked, looking back at him curiously.  
  
"Apologize."  
  
Kurt was stunned. Exactly how much had Blaine told his manager about them? That didn't matter though. What mattered was that Kurt couldn't for the life of him figure out what Blaine needed to apologize for. Was it for walking out and never looking back? Was it for the fight in general? Was it for saying that Kurt had zero fashion sense even though both of them knew he didn't mean it? What was it for?  
  
"Apologize for what?" Kurt asked finally.  
  
Blaine shrugged and made his way over to the window to stare out of it. So Blaine didn't know any more than Kurt did what he was supposed to be apologizing for. Kurt wondered if his manager knew.  
  
"I don't think there's anything to apologize for," Kurt pressed on some moments later. "I can't even remember what started that fight in the first place."  
  
Blaine turned to look at him. "Me either," he admitted. "But I do remember I said a lot of things I didn't actually mean."  
  
"I know," Kurt said, taking a hesitant step forward and looking at him for a moment. "I did too." Blaine offered him a tiny smile, which Kurt returned. "You had to know how hard it was for me to tear those songs up."  
  
Blaine chuckled lightly. "Actually, I'm kind of glad you did." Kurt just stared at him. "You think I'm an idiot for saying that right?"  
  
Kurt shook his head. "No, but why would you say that?"  
  
Blaine sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I was seventeen Kurt. Those songs barely scratched the surface of what I was capable of."  
  
Kurt nodded somewhat in understanding. "Just like those bow ties barely scratched the surface of what I was capable of," he said.  
  
"Exactly," Blaine said with a nod.  
  
The two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence, neither really knowing where to take the conversation next. Kurt watched Blaine as he stared out the window. He stood there and admired him. He was even sexier than he had been when he was a teenager. God how could he keep this man out of his life for ten years?  
  
Kurt wondered why he had just continued to let them go on not being friends because of a silly fight that really must not have been all that big if neither of them could remember why they had fought in the first place.  
  
Years without Blaine did nothing to ease the heartache he had felt. The most he had gotten was that he had been able to dim it. Or he thought he had. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring himself to fully commit to a relationship.  
  
"Are you seeing anyone?" Kurt suddenly blurted, feeling himself blush to the roots of his hair. He turned his eyes away as the singer turned sharply to stare at him wide-eyed. "I'm sorry," he apologized quickly. "That was rude."  
  
To his surprise Blaine chuckled. "No it wasn't," the curly-haired man replied. "I'm not. I don't do commitment."  
  
Kurt looked a little hurt at that and Blaine realized what he had said, blushing himself and looking down at the floor.  
  
"Because of you," he muttered boldly.  
  
The pale man's eyes widened ten fold. "I…what?" he asked.  
  
Blaine chuckled again and chanced a glance up at Kurt. "Something about you Kurt. I don't know. But I didn't feel right trying to commit to someone when I didn't have you in my life. Does that make sense?"  
  
Kurt couldn't believe what he was hearing. Could it be that Blaine was in love with him too and just hadn't realized it? That would be so like Blaine. He had always been so oblivious. Especially when the whole Sebastian thing started.  
  
"Yes," Kurt finally replied, shoving thoughts of the meerkat faced boy out of his head. Last he knew, Sebastian was serving time for sexual assault or something. He'd heard it on the news. But the truth was, it did make sense. "I felt the same way," he added, voice a quiet whisper.  
  
"So, you're not married?" Blaine asked and Kurt didn't miss the hope in his tone. The pale man chuckled and shook his head.  
  
"Not even close," he replied. Blaine smiled widely at him and took several steps closer, reaching out to take Kurt's hand in his. The twenty-eight year old felt his breath hitch.  
  
"So than, you wouldn't be opposed to me taking you out for coffee?" Blaine prompted.  
  
"You mean like on a date?" Kurt asked, unable to keep his own hope out of his voice.  
  
Blaine smiled again. "If you want to call it that," he replied, winking at him. Kurt blushed. He felt like a teenager again. In his mind's eye, he could see the sixteen year old Blaine serenading him with Katy Perry all over again.  
  
"I thought you'd never ask," he replied, gently squeezing the other man's hand. Blaine's smile only grew.  
  
"Than shall we?" he asked.  
  
Kurt looked at him in surprise. "Wait, you mean right now?" he asked.  
  
Blaine chuckled. "Unless you're too busy."  
  
The pale man frantically shook his head. "No, no I'm not. But what about the appointment? The fitting?"  
  
Blaine shrugged. "I think you know me well enough not to need a fitting. Do you have any other appointments?"  
  
Again, Kurt shook his head. "No."  
  
"Good," Blaine replied. "Let's go."  
  
Not letting go of Kurt's hand, Blaine lead the way back through the office. Elise failed to hide the curious look on her face when she noted the incredibly hot and charming curly haired man pulling her boss along behind him.  
  
"I'll be back in a little while Elise," Kurt managed to say on the way out the door. She didn't know what to say to that so she just nodded.  
  
It was a few minutes into the walk down the street when Kurt felt he had to get something off his chest. The incident at Blaine's apartment the night before.  
  
"I'm sorry Blaine," he said out of the blue, causing Blaine to stop and look back at him curiously. Before he could ask what he meant though, Kurt pressed on. "Last night. Your apartment. I'm sorry I just bolted."  
  
Blaine's eyes went as wide as saucers. "That was you? You're my new neighbor?" he asked. Kurt nodded guiltily and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "Than I'm the one who should be apologizing for that." Kurt looked confused.  
  
"What? Why?" he asked.  
  
Blaine sighed. "I wasn't exactly the most welcoming when I answered the door." Kurt remembered how harsh Blaine had spoken and waved his hand as if to wave it off but Blaine shook his head. "I'd been napping and I can get a bit annoyed when woken up unceremoniously." Sure he had been thinking that morning that the new neighbor had to apologize for being rude. But that was before he knew his new neighbor was Kurt. "What were you doing at my door anyway?"  
  
Kurt sighed heavily and gestured for them to keep walking. His pale cheeks were tinged with a light pink color as be remembered the events of the night before and how incredibly embarrassed he was about what had happened.  
  
"I only wanted to ask if you knew any good restaurants in the area to get a bite to eat," he admitted. "I'd been unpacking for hours. My hair looked awful so I just threw on the hoodie. But then, when I found out the neighbor was you, I froze. I didn't know what to do so I muttered an apology in my lower register and bolted."  
  
Kurt didn't know if Blaine had heard the muttered apology. But what he said next suggested he had.  
  
"You did that to mask your voice, didn't you?" he asked. Kurt sighed again and nodded. "It's okay Kurt. You weren't ready. I get it. I certainly wasn't ready this morning but my manager made me."  
  
Kurt looked at him with a soft smile, squeezing his hand. "I'm glad he did."  
  
Blaine smiled back at him. "Me too."  
  
The two of them continued on their way to coffee. Perhaps the first step to renewing a friendship they'd left behind ten years earlier and maybe, just maybe something more.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wanted to explain Blaine's phone number when he's texting Kurt. Yes, that is the area code for San Diego. I would know, I lived there when I got my current phone number. I originally had an actual phone number there but because it links the number to call, I didn't want to risk people accidentally calling the person who might have that number as I thought it up at random so I changed the first three digits to the fictional 555 and the last two digits to 37 because they were originally 55. Hope that makes sense!


End file.
